


Nothing to Do and Everything to Do

by kibasniper



Series: Femslash February 2020 [22]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Bonding, Comfort Food, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2020, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, Starting Over, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: The comfortable life Inkopolis provides gives Eight a reason to worry about the future. Three understands completely.
Relationships: Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)
Series: Femslash February 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618900
Kudos: 22





	Nothing to Do and Everything to Do

**Author's Note:**

> Femslash February 2020 Day 22: Lazy.

Loitering around the square, staring at Inklings and Octolings wearing the freshest gear while they chatted about upcoming Splatfests, it made Eight’s skin crawl.

The Crust Bucket was a place she deemed strange. She stood off to the side, clutching the flimsy plastic container with her Triple-Fried Galactic Shwaffle. She smelled grease mixing with the sweetness of fried ice cream in the air. It mingled with the odd floral perfume an Inkling wore as she bought her Special-Charge Shake, the smile on her face infectious to everyone but Eight.

She picked up her plastic fork. The flimsiness and brittleness of the cutlery made her nose wrinkle. Digging into her treat, she cut through tender tempura and rich whipped cream and bit down, the crunchy waffle layer tasting better than she expected. It was more than a step up from the rations she had to gnaw through when she worked with the Octarians, her stomach growling quietly at the memory and of how full even a tiny morsel made her feel.

She leaned against the side of the Crust Bucket, the cold metal pressing into her back. She listened to Sean greet each customer with a wave and joke before getting to their orders. He was almost too friendly, like he was putting on a show for them when they gathered around his truck, a careful act to keep their attention on him to make more money by the day’s end.

But she knew that was a foolish assumption. Like the other shop owners, he was genuine. There wasn’t a trace of deceit anywhere on his face or in his voice. He truly cared for his customers, dishing out advice and meals for everyone who stopped by his truck.

Eight continued eating, her tongue twitching at the sugary and juicy tastes. She wondered if her taste buds had somehow shrivelled over the years. Eating slabs of dry meat and canned food, with her only beverage being water, she wondered if other Octolings had the same concerns. But when she gazed at the crowd and saw only laughing, giddy Octolings who seemed to have no cares in the world, she shifted to the back of the track and gazed at the fence blocking off the street.

She felt like she was standing guard again. Although her memories were still jumbled, she distinctly recalled barricading Zapfish. Hunched forward on top of a metal crate, her charger in hand, ready for anything as the sun beat down on her and her cohorts stood at their positions, she had felt like she could take out anyone who tried swimming her way through their ink.

Her foot tapped as she stuffed the rest of the treat into her mouth. She swallowed roughly, her throat tickling as the squid-shaped candies scratched her esophagus. Rapping her knuckles to her chest, Eight gulped it down and threw away her plate in the nearest trash can, returning to a life which still bewildered her.

“You look unsure about something.”

She flinched, her shoulders hitching upwards. Narrowing her eyes, she relaxed when she saw Three sitting at a picnic bench with her hand to her cheek. Wondering how she could have missed her, she smoothed down her shirt and sat next to her, watching Three sip from a Sub-Up Juice.

“You know, he used to run a store called Shrimp Kicks,” Three said, inclining her head at Sean, “but I guess he entered the food industry when I was absent.”

“His choice in food is...strange,” Eight admitted, patting her stomach. “There wasn’t anything like that concoction of flavors back with the Octarians.”

“He fries everything, so that explains that.” Three replied, leaning back and crossing her ankles. She glanced at Eight, who kept her attention on the Crust Bucket. “What’s wrong?”

Humming, Eight itched her neck. She took in a breath, held it, and then, she slowly sighed it out. Her thoughts collected, she turned to Three and asked, “How are you all able to do nothing? Just have Turf Wars and buy food, clothes, and weapons and not think about anything else?”

Three’s eyes widened, and she tucked her hand between her thighs. Straightening her back, she surveyed the crowd of Inklings and Octolings gathering in the square. Marina and Pearl were announcing the latest stages above their heads on a monitor, their usual banter playing making their audience laugh.

“Well, I think it stems back to how we were raised. We didn’t have to go through what you did,” she said, pointing between herself and Eight. “For us, this is normal. For you, it’s still strange, isn’t it?” When Eight’s gaze drifted to her boots, Three set her hand on her shoulder. “But I get it. After what I went through, this is starting to feel odd for me, too.”

Eight lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. “It is?”

She nodded. “Fighting the Octarians, being possessed by Tartar, I’ve started to feel like I should always be careful now, that something is gonna happen if I’m not.” She gently squeezed Eight’s shoulder and grinned. “Though, with no missions to undertake or real battles to fight, I think I’m okay with lazing around for a day.”

A part of her wanted to argue back. She wanted to say that they always needed to be cautious in case any of their enemies returned. Tartar could have found a way to survive, even if Marina reassured her there was no trace of him in the contaminated ocean. DJ Octavio could have escaped his prison again if the Squid Sisters stopped being diligent for a split second, leaving Eight to ponder the consequences of her betrayal.

But when Eight locked eyes with Three, her worries melted away. She felt like she could truly believe in Three’s assertion. Even though she was raised to deny such claims, with what they had endured together, Eight gripped Three’s hand and nodded, smiling as widely as she had done when she first arrived in Inkopolis.

“Oh, is that drink any good?” Eight suddenly asked when Three took another sip.

“This? Yeah, it’s fruity. I think you’d like it.”

“Then, I’m gonna buy one.” Eight hurried to her feet and grinned down at Three. “Do you want anything else? I have some tickets to spare.”

Three nodded. “If he’s having a special on Super Seanwiches, then I’m down. I’ll pay you back later.”

As Eight rushed to get back in line, Three smiled at her backside and continued grinning long after Eight started a conversation with a few Octolings waiting in front of her.


End file.
